Streets of Durbendy
by JoshuaHisbert
Summary: Kurt Hummel lost everything before the drought. Having joined with the Evans family after they too lost it all, will things change in a good way for Kurt when he meets the prince of Durbendy? Or will everything just get much more difficult?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This quite frankly was meant to be a oneshot to write because I was having some trouble writing my other story. But... now it's not? I have parts of it already figured out, so I'll likely be updating this one more than my other one.

But anyways, a bit about the story, yes? The beginning seems similar to 'Aladdin' to be honest. That's likely because it's one of my _favorite_ Disney movies. But no, this isn't like a Klaine-Aladdin story. It's quite different. Also, I'm warning you now, I always end up adding angst. Somewhere. I make things difficult for so many characters with my ANGST.

Well anyways, I hope you all enjoy my random idea~

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><p>Laughter was the man's only response as he watched his target run off into the crowded shopping market that filled the streets of Durbendy. The 'street rat' shoved the stolen apple into his mouth as he carefully maneuvered around the crowds or people as though he had been trained to do so - and considering his living conditions, who knows, maybe he had been. He carefully tucked the half-loaf of bread into his torn satchel, and turned a corner in attempt to escape from the angered shop keeper.<p>

"Stop that street rat!"

But the man's calls were for nothing, for the thief had already maneuvered himself out of the streets and to the outer walls of Durbendy. How he moved that quickly was a mystery to all he'd ever encountered, and if you asked him, he'd just tell you that 'being born a pauper has its perks'.

Brushing his sweat-soaked hair from his face, the thief took the ripe-red apple from his mouth, taking a large bite from it as he did so. Moaning from the pleasure of the juices hitting his parched throat, he looked at the slightly-forested area in front of him and sighed.

The drought had been going on for two months now. Those who couldn't fend for themselves financially fled, searching for a land where they wouldn't die of thirst; Kurt was one of those. His mother had died nine years ago, when he was only eight years old. His family had always had financial troubles, but they only got worse as time went on. His father began to fall ill three years prior to the present day. Kurt was forced to work hard, long hours for someone who had only been a young teen - and yet, he never complained. He went to work in the marketplace each and every day with a smile on his face, ready to work, only to return home to a frail father that he needed to spend all his spare time caring for.

Despite all of his hard work and effort to keep his father going, he had passed away two years ago. Due to the time he spent grieving for his lost father, he lost his job as well. He was left alone at fifteen no family, no job, no home. He had no friends, growing up in the secluded life he had had left him without any.

He was _alone_.

"Kwurt?" a small voice called. Snapping out of his reverie, the boy turned his gaze downwards, giving a loving smile when he spotted the little girl who had spoken his name. Crouching down, he slipped the partially-eaten apple back into his bag, placing both hands on her sides.

Her gold, matted hair was pulled back into two loose pigtails, her thumb in her mouth as she smiled at the teen in front of her. She had in a dark pink dress with a ripped shoulder, and a pair of dark blue pants. The clothing was grass stained, and her bare feet were covered in scratches and dirt. Her blue eyes stared straight into Kurt's as he smiled at her sweetly, feeling sorry for what the young girl had to go threw at a simple four years old.

"Where are your brothers?" he asked softly, knowing the young girl had been getting easily spooked ever since her father had lost his job and they had been forced to search for a new home as well.

"Sammy went into town to look for you, Kuwrtsie," she giggled. "He said he needed to... to warn you of sometin'!" Moving the thumb from her mouth, the girl continued. "And Stevie went after him! He said it would be a really fun adventure! But he wouldn't let me go," she pouted. "He said it was too tough for girls to do."

Kurt looked around briefly before grabbing the girl's hand and standing up. Walking into a batch of overgrowth that managed to somehow last the draught, he dropped her hand and looked around briefly again. "Stacy, I need you to stay here for me, okay?" She nodded. "I mean it. Only come out for me, Sam, Stevie, or your parents." She nodded again, rocking on her heels. "Speaking of which, where are they?"

"They went to look for a job again." Looking at her innocent face, all Kurt could do was smile sadly. Poor Stacy and Stevie... it was bad enough that _he_ and _Sam_ had nowhere to go, but those two... they were only four. Their parents were both unemployed and had three mouths to feed, only one of those mouths capable of fending for themselves. Which brought Kurt to his current problem.

Stevie.

According to Stacy (who, despite her age, was quite the reliable source), he'd wandered off after Sam while he searched for Kurt in the village - and without a doubt, he'd be nabbing a little something for him and his siblings to eat. And that right there put Stevie in enough danger, not to mention all those people around who would feel that nabbing a little boy to do slave work during the drought would be completely humane.

"I'll be back soon, okay?" Receiving a nod from the young girl, he sped back in the direction he had just come from, hoping it wouldn't be too late to warn Sam that his brother had snuck out after him.

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><p>Kurt had known Sam for much of his life, although the two were never friends. Kurt was always the odd-one-out, always having been more uneducated than the others, and having had much less money. Not to mention, any of his free time as a child was spent on caring for his father.<p>

But Sam's family had always been well off, from what Kurt had known. They owned a prosperous farm just off the edge of Durbendy, about five-hundred acres. At one time, Kurt had worked as a stable boy for them there. It was actually the last job Kurt had had before the drought. He had gotten the job a little after his seventeenth birthday, and lost it when the farm went bankrupt a month into the drought.

Even before the drought, the Evans Farm was slowly losing money. Many of their livestock had grown ill and passed away, leaving them to make a profit solely off of their crops. So when the drought came, it hit them hard. All of their money had been spent on purchasing new livestock, so they had none saved up to pay for taxes or anything of the sorts, leaving them without any money.

When the workers of the crown came to claim custody of the farm, Kurt had been there. Mrs. Evans had been in tears, leaning on her husband for support. Sam had just arrived home from shopping in the market, Stevie on his back, and Stacy pushing the wheelbarrow they used to cart stuff to and from the market.

They had been forced to leave their home in Durbendy, Kurt tagging along with them for a short while. They took refuge in the forest surrounding their homeland, searching for hours on end to find a new shelter for the night. They often ran into other families with the same conditions as them, but they never hung around them.

No one could trust one another.

Over time, Kurt and Sam grew to be quite close. They often went back into Durbendy together, stealing small amounts of food in an attempt to stay alive. They were as close as two friends could be, really. They shared their secrets, and for the first time since his father died, Kurt had somebody to talk to.

But he still had a secret he hid from even Sam.

Kurt liked men. Meaning, in childish terms, he _like-liked_ men, not women. Now, to Kurt, that really wasn't a big deal; it was just who he was. But to everyone else, it was something that could be punishable by death. So, Kurt couldn't tell anyone, he couldn't admit to a boy if he fancied them, or walk down the marketplace holding the person he likes hand.

No, Kurt would have to lie about his life to everyone, including Sam and the rest of the Evans family.

Now maybe if the incident with the Berry's hadn't happened five years ago, he wouldn't have been so scared to tell the Evans. But five years ago, it was discovered the Mr. Berry (thought to be a widowed husband) was actually in relations with his housekeeper, also a man. They were forced to flee Durbendy when their house was cast in flames, but Mr. Berry's thirteen-year-old daughter had been taken from them and into the custody of the crown. She now worked as a chef, working long, hard hours as punishment for her father's actions.

And Kurt was already forced to leave Durbendy; he didn't want to be almost killed as well. The draught was hard enough without having a heavy secret hanging over him. So, he hid it. He would go on single for the rest of his life if he had to; he would _not_ tell anyone his secret, not even Sam.

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><p>The marketplace seemed to return to its busy state in the small time frame Kurt was gone. No longer were guards looking around for him, but they had rather returned to their stations at each gap in the marketplace, making sure no one ran off.<p>

Knowing that he could be recognized by any of them at any second, Kurt quickly snatched a scarf from a nearby stand (luckily not getting caught), and tied it around the top of his head, covering the top of his head. Hopefully that would help a _bit_.

After wandering around for a few minutes, Kurt heard a familiar call.

"THEIF! STOP HIM! CATCH THAT STREET RAT!"

Spinning around, Kurt saw exactly who he was looking for running straight for him. _Sam_. And Stevie had his arms wrapped around his brother's neck as the blond-haired boy jumped over small obstacles, running as quickly as he could towards the outer areas of Durbendy.

"Sam!" called Kurt, running after the boy when he sped by him. But Sam was too fast, too agile, for him, and it didn't help that he didn't seem to hear his call. So, Kurt ended up tripping in his desperate attempt to catch up with his friend.

Wincing as his head made contact with the hard ground; Kurt scrabbled in an attempt to get back up, only to see a hand in his face. Looking up with confusion, the pauper spotted a smiling face holding an outstretched hand in an offer to help him get up.

"Are you okay?" he asked. Kurt simply nodded, not trusting his voice at the moment. He was too mesmerized by the sight in front of him.

Short, dark hair was plastered to his head with hair gel, a few strands occasionally breaking away and curling freely. His skin color was a gentle olive shade, and his clothing… well, Kurt must admit, it was _quite_ amazing clothing. There was no doubt that this man came from a wealthy family.

He wore a baggy, white shirt tucked nicely into a pair of long, tan pants. His coat was navy blue with a red trim on it, the sleeves overly loose. It hung down like a long cape, the back of it having a large and fancy letter _D_ sewn on in a rich red coloring.

"Prince Anderson, don't speak to the commoners. Some may be diseased at a time like this." Looking to his left as he lay on the ground, Kurt saw a tan-skinned man with a black Mohawk standing with his hands behind his back, and a sharp glare directed at him. Biting his nip nervously, Kurt took in the other two men behind him, both at medium height, one with slightly-spiky black hair, and one with dark hair parted to the side.

Prince Anderson laughed lightly, shaking his head. "Don't believe such rumors, Puckerman." Kurt took onto the prince's still extended hand now, and pulled himself up, albeit nervously now that he knew he was in company of the prince. Turning around now, the prince faced his guards. "Wilson, Harwood, Puckerman, a moment if you would?" The spiky-haired one – Harwood – opened his mouth to object, but after receiving a sharp glare from his prince, snapped it shut again and led the other two a few yards away, still keeping an eye on Prince Anderson.

"I'm sorry about them…" he said, rubbing the back of his perfectly-gelled head. "They have been slightly… overprotective since the beginning of the draught. They mean you no harm, of that I can promise." A slight smile played on his lips now, causing Kurt to smile back.

"Oh, i-it's no problem at all, P-Prince Anderson…" he stuttered slightly, looking down at his feet. Never before had he seen the prince, and gosh, he was _gorgeous_. "I-if you don't mind me asking… what is it you are doing out of your castle?"

Blaine laughed slightly at that, still smiling at Kurt as he continued. "Oh, the guards asked me to come out and see if I can up security. Apparently, there have been quite a few thieveries recently." Smirking, he added, "You wouldn't happen to know anything about them, would you?"

"N-no!" Kurt squeaked, almost too quickly. "I-I mean, of course not, sir." Biting his lip now, Kurt rocked back on the heels of his bare feet (having outgrown his last pair of shoes around four months back).

"Very well then," he responded, a slight, knowing smirk on his face. "And please, call me Blaine. I may be a prince, but calling me 'Prince Anderson' or 'sir' makes me feel slightly like my father…" he frowned a bit at that, but it was gone so fast, Kurt wasn't even sure he had seen it.

"Well, thank you for assisting me then, Prince Blaine," responded Kurt, smiling slightly. There was something about the prince… something that just caught his attention. He didn't know what it was, but with any luck, he'd never have to find out.

"It was my pleasure…" began the prince; suddenly realizing he had never caught the younger boy's name. "Wait, I never caught y-"

"Prince Anderson!" came the call from the guard trio, causing both boys to look over at them. "Prince Anderson, we must hurry!" The one speaking was Harwood, who in Kurt's opinion seemed to be the one who had the hardest time keeping his mouth clothing.

"I'm coming, Thad! Just hold on one moment, please!" Prince Blaine rolled his eyes slightly, continuing to speak before even turning back to face Kurt. "I'm sorry about them, as I stated, they are slightly over protective. Now, would you mind informing me… of… your name…"

Blaine mumbled the last part slowly, having now turned back to face Kurt – or, where Kurt had been only moments before. He looked around briefly, trying to catch a sign of the honey-colored hair of the boy, but not managing to spot it over the heads of the many people of Durbendy.

"Prince Anderson!"

"Coming, coming!" With that, the prince was forced to turn on his heels and walk gracefully back over to his guards to try and work out the problems of the marketplace.

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><p>"Oh… oh God… what… did that really just… oh… oh my…" Kurt now had his back against the walls surrounding the village, breathing deeply while trying to form coherent thoughts, and quite frankly failing. The second the prince had turned his head, Kurt ran for it, running as though he had just stolen a pound of gold.<p>

He ran straight towards the forests, stopping only when he reached the edge of Durbendy. Slowly stepping away from the wall, Kurt gripped onto his chest, taking a few more deep breaths before heading off to the area he had told Stacy to stay at, hoping that Sam and Stevie made it out okay.

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><p><strong>AN: **Thar we go. I wrote the first half of that on my IPod, the second half durring a Tornado Warning in my basement. It never even came to my town...

But anyways, thank you to the always wonderful redrosegal for beta-ing for me! I LOVE YOUUU *heart*

~Joshua


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Sorry I didn't get this up sooner. Family came down for my brother's graduation, so I had to hang out with them. But I finished! Also, I feel like telling all of you I have a tumblr. http:/joshuaashita (dot) tumblr (dot) com/ I'll post when I upload a new chapter or have important information or something.

But thank you to redrosegal for staying up late even though yiu had to get up early in order to beta this! I love youuu!

This chapter it mostly Sam and Kurt. It also shows a few peaks into Blaine's world between switching point of views. Enjoy~

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><p>"Kurt! Jeeze, we've been looking everywhere for you!" Kurt smiled gently, his nerves about meeting the Prince forgotten as the blond-haired (well, pretty much brown-haired now, but still partially blond) teenager he'd grown so close to pulled him into a hug, two four year olds doing their best to join in the hug as well.<p>

"Yeah, well, I saw you running out of the village with Stevie on your back," smirked Kurt, causing Sam to open his mouth, but have no words come out. "Not your smartest move, stealing while with your younger brother, huh?"

"Hey!" objected Sam, now gaining back his speech. "He stole the oranges, not me." Sam pouted now, arms crossed over his chest as he turned his head slightly to the side and huffed.

Crouching down, Kurt looked at both Stacy and Stevie and smiled. "You two are much more mature than little Sammy, and don't you forget that, okay?" The two kids laughed and Kurt patted their heads before standing back up. "And you," Kurt said sternly, pointing a finger at Sam, "should have been more careful as to make sure your brother wasn't following you. You know what could have happened to him!"  
>Sam looked like he wanted to object, but much to Kurt's surprise, didn't. "I-… I know. I'm sorry, Kurt, you're right." Now he looked up at Kurt, worry in his eyes. "Please, please don't tell my mom and dad? They'll<em> kill <em>me."

Kurt sighed, and rolled his eyes at Sam. "Alright, alright. I won't tell them, so long as you make sure it doesn't happen again." Now Kurt had his arms crossed over his chest, a glare sent right in the direction of Sam, causing the older boy to slink back a bit.

"Of course, just… stop looking at me like that. It's really creepy."

Kurt laughed now, and because they were four, Stevie and Stacy started to laugh too, which just brought a smile onto Sam's face. When the laughing had quieted down, Sam asked Kurt, "Well, if you saw us in town, what took you so long to come out here? I mean, we've been out here for at least ten minutes before you showed up, and you seemed pretty breathless, which must've meant that you ran… so…"

Kurt's face grew hot in a blush when he remembered what had held him in town. "I… er… I tripped whilst chasing after the two of you," he shot a small, joking glare at Stevie, which caused the younger boy to giggle again, "and a man helped me up and started talking to me. That's all Sam, I promise."

"Kurt…" Sam's voice was filled with concern. "You know it's not safe to speak to anyone, especially with the rumors of that disease going around…" That just made Kurt laugh. Apparently, a rumor had been spread around the area stating that along with the drought, a terrible disease was plaguing the area, only infecting the poor, and giving them a slow, painful death. Your limbs would begin to rot, and your breathing would be just shallow enough for you to survive for a few days. The worst part was that it was said only to be passed by touch.

"I don't think I would have to worry about this man having anything like that," Kurt joked, before realizing what he had said and snapping his mouth shut. It wasn't that it was a bad thing he had met the prince. He wasn't sure why, but he just knew that bringing up would be a bad idea.

"And why is that?" Sam had now crossed his arms, and was looking at Kurt with raised eyebrows.

"Because, he's..." Kurt bit his lip, looking anywhere but at Sam.

"Kurt... who was he? Almost everyone left in Durbendy is poor!"

"P-Prince Anderson..." muttered Kurt, slowly retreating away from Sam. He knew _exactly_ what was coming.

"PRINCE ANDERSON? That sorry bastard _actually_ dares to show his face on the streets? I'm surprised he wasn't too busy sitting on his damned throne, being fed grapes by his servants! He seems to be too damned busy to help anyone, and yet he can take a wonderful stroll through the marketplace!"

Sam was fuming. Positively_ fuming_. Kurt actually cringed as Sam's voice rose, but Sam didn't notice. Sam was blinded for hatred of the Prince, as many who had left Durbendy were. In their eyes, the royal family was made of cowards. They hardly showed their faces in the village, and cared too much about themselves to help out the villagers. They cared too much for their own safety to worry about anyone else's. They took a majority of the remaining water for themselves, while people died on the streets from dehydration daily.

And who Sam hated most was Prince Blaine freakin' Anderson. He acted as though nothing in the world were wrong, always keeping a big-ass smile on his face. He had a new girl on his arm every week, flaunting her around, and then throwing her back into middle class when he was done with her.

And he really pissed Sam off.

"H-he was upping security," Kurt whispered softly, looking at his feet. "I..." he took a deep breath, and said the rest all in one breath."Ithinkheknows."

Sam calmed down a bit now, taking in a large amount of air to relax. He raised an eyebrow, and asked "well, why do you think that?"

Kurt bit his lip, looking anywhere but at his best (and pretty much only) friend. "When he asked if I knew who had done it, I said no, a-and he... he just _smirked_ at me."

Sam rolled his eyes. "He was probably trying to flirt with you. He's such a hypocrite, I wouldn't be surprised if he was homosexual himself."

"Y-yeah," said Kurt, forcing out a weak laugh. Sam ignored the odd behavior, and continued.

"You didn't tell him anything about you, did you Kurt?" There was honest worry in Sam's voice, and Kurt knew why. With so much as a name, the royal family could find out _anything_. From where and when they were born to a picture to last time they were seen in the marketplace and what they usually got. And that wouldn't be safe for Kurt, _or_ the Evans family.

"Of course not Sam, I'm not stupid," said Kurt, giving him his signature 'bitch-please' face, hands on his hips.

"I know, I know. It's just... I'm worried about you, dude. You're like... a part of our family now, and I don't wanna lose you." Kurt's face softened into a smile at Sam's words, and he moved his arms to wrap around the slightly taller boy in a hug. After a moment's hesitation, Sam did the same, giving Kurt a gentle squeeze. After a moment of the two remaining like that (Stevie and Stacy having run off to play in the forest whilst Sam was yelling about Prince Blaine), Kurt pulled back, whipping away a few tears from his eyes.

"Thank you Sam. That... that really means a lot to me," said Kurt, his voice quiet and sincere and full of thanks. "I can hardly remember what my family was like before-... well, before my mother passed. But, it has been wonderful traveling with you guys." Kurt's smile faltered a bit, and he took a deep breath before continuing. "However, I really can't consider myself to be a part of your family…"

"But Kur-" Kurt raised his hand, efficiently quieting Sam, and sighed.

"Let me explain. Even if we are both in the same place now, we are completely different families, in different social classes. You belong in the high parts of middle class, making more than enough money to survive. You can afford to keep your farm going, your family well fed, and you can even afford tuition to attend the school.

"I, however, am in lower class. I have to work all day in order to keep myself –and just myself – alive. I'm homeless, Sam, even when this drought is over." He looked up at Sam with sad eyes before continuing, "And I likely won't even make it out of this drought alive. I… I know I don't have a long life to live, Sam, and as honored as I am to here that you think of me as a brother, it's not worth getting close to me." By this point, a few silent tears had begun to fall down his face.

"Because everyone you love and care about is eventually going to die. And it hurts like hell."

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><p>"Thank you very much for your assistance, Prince Anderson," bowed the worker at the Marketplace. Prince Blaine had just agreed to up the security a bit, allowing more guards out of the palace in order to better stop the thievery that had been a major occurrence since the drought began.<p>

"It was not a problem at all, sir. Please let me know if this continues," said the Prince, his usual smile on his face, hands clasped behind his back. The man mumbled a simple 'of course, your majesty', causing his smile to increase. "Have a good day, sir." And with that, he turned his back.

Blaine's guards once again surrounded him as he walked back to the palace. He was quite use to this procedure by now, and it no longer bothered him in the slightest. He simply kept his usual smile on his face, hands clasped behind his back, walking as he always did back to the place he always was.

Because to Blaine, this was life, and this was the way he was going to live.

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><p>Honestly, Kurt's words scared Sam. They scared him speechless. So now, he was stuck looking at the crying Kurt, mouth agape, saying<em> nothing<em>.

And there was nothing he could say. Kurt had lost_ everyone_. He had had to learn from such a young age how to care for himself and his ill father once his mother passed. He was no longer able to attend school, because they didn't have the money to afford the tuition. And Kurt had to act like it was no big deal so as not to work his father up, and make his frail heart worse. When his father passed, he lost his home. When he lost him home, he had to work for shelter. He had to scavenge for food.

And Sam had always taken all of that for granted – a home, food, education,_ love_. That's when it hit Sam. Kurt didn't know what it was like to have someone love him. The last years of his life, Kurt's father had been so out of it, he hardly even called Kurt by the correct name. He hardly knew his _own _name at times.

Obviously, that had taken quite a toll on Kurt. If his own father didn't know his _name_, how could they actually love him? It must have made him feel so alone, unwanted. And yet, he stayed by his father's side, and helped him to live longer than he likely should have with his heart problems.

Sam felt his own eyes glass over with tears as he continued trying to look into the other boy's soul. A sniffle coming from Kurt snapped him out of trance, and he snapped his mouth shut, blinking a few times in order to remove the tears that threatened to fall.

"Kurt… you can't… that's no way to live," muttered Sam, placing his hands on Kurt's shoulders. Kurt tried to shrug them off, but the taller boy merely tightened his grip and held him in place. "You have to let someone in; you don't have to keep going alone. As much as it sucks, death is just a part of life. And we've gotta keep going for the people we love and lost."

Kurt looked up into Sam's eyes, tears continuing to fall. "I just… I don't feel like I _have _anyone to go for, Sam. I mean, sure, you love me as a brother and all that. That's great. I just…" Another sigh. "You don't understand, Sam.

And he really didn't.

* * *

><p>"Did you solve the problem in the marketplace, Blaine?" A short, slender woman smiled at her son as the guards broke their formation, allowing the young boy to walk forwards towards his mother. Blaine wore his smile – as always – as he bowed slightly to his mother.<p>

Her front of her long, wavy, black hair was tied back, keeping it out of her face. Despite all the things going on outside her home, she still managed to look much younger than she actually was. She wore a long red dress with a few sequences going down it like a sash.

"Of course, mother." His voice was strong, confident, and some may even say it had a hint of arrogance in it. It was the way Blaine always spoke. The only time words came from his mouth, it was spoken with this voice. "I have allowed three more guards to circuit the marketplace and keep an eye out for the thieves. If they are caught, they are to be taken immediately to the palace, where I will handle their punishment," he reported.

"Very well, Blaine," his mother nodded, a slight smirk on her face. "That sounds good. Now if you'll excuse me-" she rose up from her chair "-your father and I have work to attend to." And with that, she walked out of the room, leaving Blaine alone.

But Blaine kept on smiling, because for him, this was normal.

* * *

><p>Kurt turned away from Sam, and began to make his way deeper into the woods. He needed space right now. He ignored Sam's calls of his name, and held his hands clasped behind his back except for the occasional times he reached up to wipe away his tears.<p>

He felt so… so _weak_.

He knew he wouldn't have much time left in the world. Both of his parents had died of illness, why wouldn't he? He had likely inherited both his mother's cancer and his father's bad heart. Who is to say they won't both kick and soon and kill him before he can even try and make his life better?

Why even try when his days on Earth were limited?

Feeling weaker and weaker as he continued to walk, Kurt kept going, taking random turns, until he realized he had subconsciously made his way back to the entrance of Durbendy, and had already partially walked down the road.

The streets of Durbendy seemed so similar to him. And at the same time, they seemed foreign, frightening,_ haunted_. Durbendy held no good memories for him, and neither did its rock roads, its filled marketplace, its rows of homes.

And yet, the village seemed to call to him. Everything about it seemed to call him inwards, pull him back. He wanted nothing more to leave, and yet here he was, coming back. He wanted to forget, and yet, he was remembering. Remembering his times before the drought, remembering his times after. Remembering his family, remembering the Evans.

And remembering one certain dark-haired, brown-eyed prince he couldn't seem to get out of his mind.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Thar we go. I'm hoping to maybe have Blaine/Kurt interactions in the next chapter, but stories seem to take control for me, so we'll see!

I'll likely be updating this every 2 or so days, seeing as I alternate between updating this and my other story, Taking New Directions. But we'll see~

**AnnielovesKlaine** - Thanks ^^

**Spark Of Insanity** - Ya, I don't really see how that's a thumbs up either o3o But thank you! :D

**redrosegal** - I'M WORKIN' ON IT! Besides, it would be impossible _not_ to finish with you _nagging me_ all the time xD BUT I LOVE YOU ANYWAYS! *heart*

**milael** - Thank you very much! I've never written this kind of story, so I'm glad it's working out okay ^^

Thanks to everyone who read and fallowed, I'll be sure to update everything soon!

~Josh 


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** So tired... I was tempted just to upload this tomorrow and get some sleep, but then I realized something. I haven't updated in over a week. And so, here is an update. Gets us rolling along to the plot, yes! Anyways, thank you redrosegal for nagging me to get this done and beta'ing it! I'd likely have forgotten if it weren't for your awesomeness! And thank you to the 18 people with this on their Story Alerts~

Anyways, enjoy, and I'll make sure to update faster next time! I get out of school in... 9 days (the 23rd) so I should have a bit of free time after then. But I have camp too, so we'll see!

Also, I appear to have forgotten a disclaimer. So...  
>GLEE BELONGS TO FOX.<p>

thar.

* * *

><p>As the sun set over the horizon, Kurt continued walking along the streets of Durbendy. They were mostly cleared out now, and most shops had been closed up, the possessions being locked away safely or chained to posts depending on their size. Guards were standing still as statues every few shops, watching for anyone who dare to steal.<p>

And yet, they allowed Kurt to walk right under their noses, not even expecting that the scrawny, feminine boy could be one of the many thieves that had been attacking the village.

As he walked, a sign caught his eye. It was a large, white posted taped to the post of a large fruit stand. The corners were tapped, as well as the top and bottom being stapled strongly. There was a black border around the center, framing a small painting of girls in ball gowns and men in suits dancing together. Kurt smiled, and looked down to read what the sign was for.

**'Prince Anderson's 18th Birthday Gala'**

So, it was the prince's birthday? Kurt tilted his head, a finger on his chin as he continued to read.

_'On August 14th,-'_

Kurt stopped, realizing that that was a simple three days away. How on Earth had he not heard of such an event? That must have been what caused the many people filling the marketplace – they were preparing.

_'- six o'clock at night,the castle will be holding a large gala for the coming-of-age party for Prince Blaine Anderson. At this event, he will be seeking out a wife to take the thrown with him on his 19thbirthday. All of the village of Durbendy is invited to attend this event, but any and all who show any signs of rudeness or have any weapons will be taken out immediately, and dropped outside of the walls of Durbendy where they will be stuck forever. Anyone who is thrown out will no longer be a citizen of Durbendy, and will have to relocate._

_We hope to see you there.'_

Kurt's eyes widened as he read over the sign. Prince Anderson was looking for… a wife? Looking around, the pauper spotted a small costume shop that was still open, an idea popping into his head. He knew he would regret this later, but he had to do this. Something in him told him he had to.

And so, he did.

* * *

><p>Blaine looked around the preparations going on in the ballroom, and nodded his head. Yes, everything seemed to be going nicely. The cooks were already preparing what Blaine could only expect to be a giant feast of food, while the rest of the staff worked on preparing the room.<p>

Decorations were being hung, tables were being pulled out for guests to sit at, and the music was being prepared. Yes, Blaine was very excited for his eighteenth birthday. With any luck, he would finally find the girl he needed to help him fund the village.

Yes, Blaine had a big feeling this birthday would be a great one.

* * *

><p>Slipping quickly away from the clothing stand he'd just taken from, Kurt tucked his items safely into his brown rucksack, careful not to make any noise. Once he was a good distance away, he took off in a run, hiding in the shadows that the night cast down as best as he could.<p>

He continued running until he reached the outer walls of Durbendy for the third time that day. Or the first time the next day. Looking up at the sky, he realized that he really didn't know what time it was, and figured that that meant it was time to retire for the day.

Making his way out towards the woods, Kurt adjusted the strap of his rucksack, gripping onto it tightly. Even after all this time, the woods still scared him at night. He always feared that something would just pop out of the trees and try to kill him.

Sure, it was an irrational fear, but knowing that didn't help his problem at all.

Kurt glanced all around him, jumping at even the slightest sounds. The farther he walked, the tighter the grip on his bag got. The more sounds he heard, the more he'd quicken his pace. An owl hooted in the far off distance, causing a shiver to run down Kurt's spine.

He felt like he had a very logical reason to be scared. In every one of the stories his mother use to read to him, something bad would happen to the protagonist when they were alone in the dark. And being in the forest just made it worse.

Just as Kurt was nearing the place he and the Evans had taken refuge at the past week, he heard the bushel beside him shake, and screeched out a very high-pitched scream that was quickly muffled by a hand. When the hand shot out to cover his mouth, Kurt slipped backwards, falling, and his rucksack dropping from his shoulder and spilling the contents out onto the dirt ground.

Just as Kurt was about to start screaming again, the man hidden in the shadows spoke. "Kurt! It's just me! Calm down, dude!"

Adjusting his eyes to the darkness a bit better, Kurt quickly recognized the face of the boy, and let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Sorry Sam," he said, smiling apologetically at the boy.

"Don't worry; I just wanted to let you know we moved locations." Kurt nodded and went to stand up, but Sam stopped him and reached down to pick up one of Kurt's 'purchases'.

"Uhh... Kurt? What's this?" asked Sam, investigating a small pile of hair that was very close to the shade of Kurt's own. Kurt quickly scrambled to his feet, and snatched it back, brushing his fingers threw it in an attempt to brush out some of the dirt.

"It's a disguise, Sam," Kurt lied, easily. Well, it _was_ truthful, but not entirely. "I think the prince knows I've been stealing from the marketplace, and just because he let me go once doesn't mean he will again. So, I've decided to try and _do_ something so I'm not caught." There was a slight bit of annoyance (and bitchy-ness) in his voice as he spoke to his friend as though he should know this already.

"Ya, um…" Sam pulled out a ball of white and blue fabric, and gently shook it out. "So, you're disguise is… a ball gown?" he asked in disbelief.

"Y-ya… you know me, I've got a high pitched voice," and to prove that point, his voice went up about an octave higher while he was speaking. "So, I thought, why not? No one will expect it's me."

"Ya, but why the extravagant gown? Why not a sun dress or something like that?"

"B-because…" Kurt stuttered, trying to think of an excuse. _'Come on, come on… think or something… thi-"_

Sam interrupted his thoughts with a loud 'Ah-ha!'. "You're going to the ball, aren't you?" Sam had a sly smirk on his face, causing Kurt to bite his lip, neither confirming nor denying anything.

"Why?" Sam asked, honestly curious. Kurt snapped his eyes closed, and began to shake. He couldn't tell Sam the truth, but he didn't want to lie either. He _couldn't_ lie to him, the Evan's had been so kind to him, taking him under their wing, and not to mention giving him a job when no one else would.

But he really couldn't tell the truth either now, could he?

"I just wanted to see what it was like, I guess…" Kurt mumbled quietly, hoping that Sam wouldn't delve deeper into the conversation.

Instead of speaking, however, Sam just knelt down on the ground in front of Kurt, who was currently biting his lip so hard it was white around his teeth. Placing a calloused, rough hand on the porcelain-like boy in front of him softly, Sam smiled.

"Hey, Kurt, if you want to go, I'm not gonna stop you. Have fun, okay? I don't really understand why you're going as a girl, yea, sure, and maybe I'd like to know why, but you don't have to tell me. Just have fun Kurt, okay?" Patting the boy's shoulder – whose gaze never lifted from the ground – Sam stood up and patted his old jeans, getting some of the dirt off before smiling at Kurt again.

"Well, we've got to get going. That is… if you still want to travel with us?" Sam asked, praying that Kurt would. He'd grown so close to the younger boy ever since Kurt had simply been working for his family's farm, and would hate to lose him now. But he wouldn't force Kurt to stay – he'd lost too much, and it made sense to Sam that he wouldn't want to get close to anyone else.

But that didn't stop him from wishing that Kurt would open up towards people more. Let them get close. Because you shouldn't close yourself off from the world just because you fear loss, because then you'd be missing out on the gain.

Kurt looked at Sam and grinned, quickly shoving his possessions back into his bag, and jumping up to his feet before nodding.

"Of course I am. Who _else_ would be able to help you take care of the twin devils?" Kurt joked, elbowing Sam as they set off west. "Although, I bet both of them put together aren't even _half_ as bad as you were, according to some of your mother's stories."

Sam stopped, and starred at Kurt, mouth agape, eyes wide. "What did she tell you?"

"Nothing!"

* * *

><p>The soft sounds of a piano melody filled the large and yet quite empty room. All the lights were turned off, no music on the stand, but Blaine didn't care. His eyes were closed as his fingers caressed the keys, playing whatever notes came to mind and creating a soothing, soft melody.<p>

He was wearing a tight-fitted black suit with a slightly puffy white dress shirt underneath. The coat had a small tail at the end, and golden-brass buttons. It was the attire his mother had requested for him to wear that evening for dinner, which he had to go to in another thirty minutes.

But for now, he let his mind drift away in the music. His old, white grand piano being the only thing on his mind, as well as the soft sounds coming from it. He tried not to think of what he was playing, and just played whatever seemed right on instinct.

Blaine had always loved the piano. When his mother first told him he had to play, he had been reluctant to do so. But now, music was his outlet. He had taken up learning any instrument he had been able to get his hands on, ranging from the harp to the cello to the guitar, and he found that music was a gift for him. Not to mention, a wonderful outlet.

He could let out all the emotions he could never show anyone else into his music. Because Anderson's don't show their weaknesses. Because that's how Blaine was raised, and this is his life and how he was taught to live it.

* * *

><p>The minute Kurt reached the new site they were staying at, Kurt crashed under his old, worn, and slightly shredded blanket. They were currently in a small clearing surrounded completely by a mass of trees, and a few fallen ones making entrance harder.<p>

In rough times like these, you can't stay in the same place. Kurt and the Evans' know that. If they were in the same place, they were more likely to be found by someone, and have their few possessions stolen, or worse, they could be killed.

So once or twice every fortnight, they would change locations as precaution. There were a few sites they went to more than once – such as the one they were at now – but for the most part, they always tried to find somewhere new.

Kurt's dreams were filled with dancing, music, and most of all, a faceless man with curly, black hair. Elegant colors and melodic sounds joined in with endless laughter and chatter that he couldn't make out. But he wasn't even trying to – he was too focused on the faceless man in front of him.

The two were dancing happily together. Kurt couldn't see himself, but he could feel hair brushing over his shoulders. For all he knew, he was dreaming as being another person entirely. But he didn't care right now. A large grin was plastered on his face as the two waltzed on a large dance floor filled with men and suits and woman in long, flowing ball gowns.

To Kurt, something like this seemed so… perfect.

But of course, all good dreams need to end. Kurt's eyes slowly blinked open, and he let out a groan of despair in knowing that his dreaming was over and he now had to get up and live the life of a pauper.

The sun was slowly breaking way into the sky, filling it with gentle hues of pink, red, and orange. Kurt smiled at the sight.

He had always loved sunsets. He and his mother would watch them every morning before she passed. After that, he would always be sure to be up in time to watch them – even though he was doing it alone. And every time he felt a gust of wind – as he was now – he pretended it was his mother, watching over him, and watching the sunset with him.

His father never did such things with him, always sleeping during that time in order to keep up his health as best as he could. But Kurt didn't mind. Watching sunsets had always been his and his mother's thing – it just wouldn't have been the same with his father.

Kurt continued watching as light filled the small clearing. After a bit of time passed, he saw the twins begin to stir from their distance a few mere yards away from him. Smiling at the two tired bodies, he slowly pushed the blanket (if you could call it that – it was tattered and worn, hardly giving him any warmth) off of him, and reaching for his bag.

He dug his hand into the now overflowing bag, trying to reach the bottom where the food was. His hand brushed past the material of the dress and the hair of the wig, bringing the dream back to him, and causing his smile to widen a bit. Eventually, he pulled out two apples and a small piece of bread.

"Stacy, Stevie, I know you two are up," he whispered, not wanting to wake up Sam. He knew that by now, Mr. and Mrs. Evans were already gone, looking for a job in a far off village, and he and Sam were once again in charge of the two youngest Evans.

Speaking of which, they were currently stirring underneath their slightly-better-of-but-not-by-much blanket, rubbing the sleep from their eyes and slowly sitting up.

"Is it morning, Kwurty?" asked Stacy, holding back a yawn until she finished speaking. Her hair was no longer held up, and was now flowing freely behind her back, slightly matted and tangles. Kurt giggled as she blinked her eyes a few times, adjusting to the little light there was.

"Yep, and that means breakfast!" he responded, smiling at the two. They both smiled at the thought of food, and half-crawled, half-ran over to where Kurt was holding out the apples and bread. When they got there, each one quickly snatched up both of the slightly dry apples, taking small bites of it.

Kurt sighed slightly, doing his best to keep a smile on his face. But it was so hard for him. To know that such small children felt as though they had to savor every bite of something as small as an apple seemed to break his heart. But he shook the thought from his head, and broke the small piece of bread in half, handing one half to each child.

Looking back in his bag, he smiled at the bit of fabric leaning out. It had been a rash decision, sure, but he couldn't help but be excited for what was a mere two days away now.

But those two days wouldn't be easy, if the raise in guards he had seen were any proof.

* * *

><p>Blaine awoke from his deep slumber and couldn't keep the smile from his face. Tomorrow, he would be eighteen. And the day after that would be the ball, where he hopefully would find his wife – and one day, his queen.<p>

The thought only increased the smile, turning it into a full-fledged grin. He pulled the blanket off of him, and slid his legs over the side of the bed, slipping is feet into the warm, red slippers on the ground. Brushing his hands down the red silk pajamas he wore, he couldn't help but think that that ball was going to be a great day.

And he sure as hell couldn't wait for it.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Just so you know, I'll describe the dress as well as give a link to a picture of it in the next chapter. YOU NO GETS TO KNOW WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE 'TILL THEN! 3 It's blue and white. That's all I'm tellin' ya.

I had EVERY INTENTION of including the ball in this chapter. But, I didn't. I wrote too many other words, and my average for a chapter is high 2,000's, low 3,000, since that helps me update more frequently without it being too short. And you would've had to wait another day or two for me to include the ball. So, I'm putting it in the next chapter.

And yes, Kurt's gonna crossdress. I'm not trying to be offensive and say 'ohh, he looks like a girl so he should wear a dress!'. Not at all. He lives in a place where being gay could get him killed, and he wants to dance with some frigin' boys! So, he's going to wear a dress. I'm a guy and _I've_ worn a dress before... you stink Tori.

ANYWAYS, thanks again to everyone :3

ilovehappiness - No, he doesn't know really. He knows times are harder now, but that's about it. He lives in a closed-off environment, and his parents can choose what he can learn and what he can't.

Spark Of Insanity - Klaine hugs are magical and heal all. Period. There is no arguing that fact.

GleeFangurl721 - Sorry it took so long, but here ya go! :D

I'll have the next chapter out in 2-3 days, or if you're lucky and I'm not exhausted, tomorrow after I do the next chapter of my other story~

~Joshua


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N**: Okay. I've updated. And now I'm tired. And need sleep. And I feel like I ignored Sam in this chapter. And I love Sam. How depressing.

I am sleep deprived. I need sleep. Camp makes me sleepy. I wrote half of this like, the day after I last updated. I had around 1,700 words typed. I typed the rest today, and now I'm sleepy. And I got to make Kurt cross-dress here. YES! *cheers* I really want to see him in a dress. That would be entertaining. But no, I get the opposite for Chris's new movie. Which is still... awesome... and... I... can't... wait... for... it... *nosebleed*

And THANK YOU REDROSEGAL FOR BETA-ING EVEN THOUGH WORD IS STUPID. I LOVE YOU.

Anyways, I'm done my rambling. I need sleep.

* * *

><p>Kurt paced back and forth in a deserted alleyway. It was now the morning of August 14th, and he had yet to fully make up his mind about whether he was going to go to the ball or not. Sure, he wanted to, and that dream… but… Sam needed help watching the twins. And what would happen if he were to be discovered? They'd know his secret for sure then…<p>

But that dream… it had felt so real, sounded so real. And even though the man's face was blurred to him, he seemed so handsome, so beautiful. And there was no way Kurt was going to miss this if there was even the smallest chance that that boy could be real.

Looking up at the sky, Kurt judged that he had about… four to six hours before the ball started. He had planned to have about three hours to get ready, just in case something was to go wrong. The wig needed styling, the dress needed adjusting, or he just started freaking out. Any of which would cause him in _needing_ that extra time set aside.

But for right now, he needed lunch. Feeling his stomach growl, he placed a hand over it and groaned. He hadn't eaten since lunch the day before, having not been able to get much from the guard increase. He made sure the twins had enough to eat, though, which was good enough for him. But right now, he needed to eat something, or he might pass out. And that really, _really_ wouldn't be good.

Peeking around the wall of the alley he had taken refuge in for the past twenty minutes or so while he had a mental debate over going or not. When he saw that the coast was clear, he quickly walked out, then began to look around as though he _hadn't_ just been surrounded by trash and could actually _afford _something from the markets he was looking at.

Nearing the shops selling food goods, Kurt caught site of three guards carelessly talking to one another rather than watching the area as they should be. Kurt smirked at their stupidity, and discreetly glanced around to make sure no others were around before stepping out of the safety out into plain sight and walking over towards one of the stands.

Kurt glanced at the fruits, picking them up to check their ripeness, and putting them back. When he neared the pile of apples and oranges, he lifted one up from the bottom, causing a large group of them to fall. Hiding his smirk, he apologize and leaned down to pick them up, slipping a few into his bag as he did so.

Just as he was reaching for another one to put back up, someone snatched his arm. Looking up, he saw a guard, with short, gray hair, grinning wickedly at him. His uniform was a navy blue button-down jacket with gold buttons and a red 'D' on the left side of the chest, and a white sash over his left shoulder. He had a white belt on that held a short, black sword. His pants were a dark red with gold buttons going down the sides, and large black combat boots on his feet. They were the Durbendy colors – red, white, navy, and gold.

"Looks like I've finally got you, you little street rat!"

Panicking, Kurt managed to pull his wrist from the man's grip, grab his bag before the other could, and run. He looked over his shoulder to see the guard chasing after him, sword sheathed. In retrospect, maybe it _wasn't_ such a good idea to turn your head around when you were trying to escape somewhere. Because, chances are, you'll hit something.

And that's exactly what Kurt did. He ran straight into another guard, falling backwards. Looking up at the tall man with black hair and the same uniform as the other, his eyes filled with panic. He scrambled up to support his wait with his hands, and tried to inch backwards, only to hit the first guard's legs with his head.

"Just stay still and we'll make this quick and painless," the first guard said. The second laughed before adding, "Yeah, please try not to move so much. We'd rather not have to clean up your blood from the marketplace."

Kurt felt tears well up in his eyes as the guards loomed over him, holding their weapons in plain sight of him. He saw the patrons of Durbendy glance at him, a few with pity in their eyes and a few that seemed glad that the pauper was going to be killed with public execution. But no one tried to help him.

Snapping his eyes shut, Kurt waited. He knew this was it. What were the chances he'd last long, anyways? Both of his parents died young, who was to say he _wouldn't_? He was lucky he lasted this long. Sighing, he braced himself to accept the fate he knew would come… he just hadn't known it would be this soon.

Only, the blow never came. Instead, his arm was grabbed so that he couldn't escape, but no metal touched his skin, and no fists made contact with his face – or any other part of his body. Opening his eyes, Kurt saw a familiar group of guards heading in his direction, surrounded a familiar head of black, slicked over hair.

Kurt swallowed nervously, eyes wide.

Blaine strolled streets of Durbendy, inspecting the area to make sure the guards were keeping up their tasks. He had taken to doing to daily, just as an excuse to get out of the castle. He didn't know what it was, but lately, something seemed to continue drawing him back to the village. So, despite his mother's protests that he shouldn't be seen until after the ball, he came out to check on things.

Just what he was checking for, he had absolutely no idea.

He hadn't managed to get out without his guards, however, and so he had three of them walking around him in a triangular formation. Not that he was complaining, he was actually quite use to it. Growing up in his position meant that you quickly got use to almost never being alone - and never being alone in public. So, he just dealt with it.

After just glancing around the streets for a good ten to twenty minutes, the sounds of crashing and shouts filled his ears.. Looking at his guards, he nodded his head in the direction of the noise and allowed them to lead him over to the center of the marketplace.

What he saw honestly shocked him.

It was the same boy he'd seen only a few days ago, being held down by two, strong-looking guards. If his suspicions had been correct the last time, this boy was one of the thieves that'd been stealing from the village.

But there was just… _something_ about him that made Blaine not want to be angry at him for his thievery. Made him want to _forgive_ the boy.

Make sure he was safe.

And so, he did.

Oh God… the _Prince_ was here. He was going to throw him in prison, or exile him, or just have the guards kill him anyways… Oh God, oh God…

Kurt continued to silently panic in his head as the guards grew nearer, and eventually broke formation to let Prince Blaine face Kurt. He looked down at Kurt with a smile on his face, then looked up at the guards.

"What appears to be the problem?" he asked, his voice kind but still full of authority. Thad, Puck, and Flint stood solemnly at his sides, hands clasped in front of them. They stood at attention, each occasionally glancing in all directions to make sure their prince remained safe.

"This piece of _filth-_" the second guard kicked Kurt on the left side of his ribs, "-decided that it would be a smart idea to steal right under our noses. So we were just going to take care of him, as your orders stated, sir." They both smiled wickedly at the prince, just waiting for him to give the okay for them to kill the 'street rat'.

But much to their surprise, he didn't.

"And where, I may ask, is your proof of his actions?" was instead what asked.

The two guard's jaws dropped, as they attempted to stutter out replies. "Well, you see-" "-We, well we-" "-his actions were clearly visible-" "-saw him do it and so-" "and I can guarantee others saw his actions as well." "-we just took actions straight away." The two had spoken at the same time, causing the prince's guards to raise their eyebrows in confusion, but Blaine merely smirked.

"I assume this means that you _have_ no proof then, am I correct?" the prince asked, hands clasped behind his back as he stood with perfect posture, and Kurt just sat there, amazed. He ignored the pain in his ribs, too shocked by the scene in front of him.

The prince of Durbendy –Prince Blaine _freakin' _Anderson – was defending _him_ when he was being held at the mercy of two blood lusting guards. The _prince_ that everyone believed to be _terrible_, and _heartless_, was saving his life when he had actually _done_ the crimes he was being accused of.

"I- we uh-…" stuttered the first guard as the second muttered an angry 'no'. Blaine smirked slightly before continuing to smile as he normally did.

"Well then, please allow this kind gentleman freedom to go." Despite the way his sentence may seem to sound like a request, it was quite obvious it was an order. With two muttered 'yes sirs' perfectly in sync with one another, the two guards walked off – or… more like ran with as much calmness as they could (not much).

This left Kurt and Prince Anderson completely alone in the street of the marketplace, most people having left once the prince showed up.

Smiling, the prince held out a hand to assist Kurt in getting up. The shorter boy winced slightly as he stood up, wrapping his free arm around his ribs and letting out a groan of pain. The second Kurt was on his feet, the Prince swiftly moved his hands, his left over Kurt's that was covering his ribs, the other on his right hip.

"Are you alright there?" he asked, helping him to stand steady. Kurt was slightly slouched over, his breathing a bit raged from the blow. Giving a small smile, he nodded.

"Y-ya… just fine. Th-thanks for your help…" he muttered softly, pulling back from Prince Blaine a bit. However, the Prince just kept a tight grip and held him still. Lifting his head, Kurt looked up at him in confusion.

"You are quite welcome, but it was truly no problem at all," Blaine smiled, a slightly larger smile than usual. "Be careful around here though, yes? I can't save you _every_ time, and it wouldn't be very… prince-ly of me to help a thief escape all the time."

Kurt blushed slightly, feeling partially ashamed in himself. "If..." taking a deep breath, he started over, "If you knew I was stealing, then why'd you help me? I-I mean, I'm grateful and all, but… you could get in trouble…" After rushing out the last part, the pauper bit his lip and looked back down at the ground, attempting to stand as comfortably as he could at the moment.

The pain was already beginning to slightly subside. Having lived on his own for so long, Kurt had adjusted quite well to pain. When he'd still lived with his dad, mugging wasn't too uncommon in his area. He'd had to deal with much more than a kick to the ribs – not that it still didn't hurt.

Blaine didn't seem to notice Kurt's slight fidgeting, and instead removed his right hand from Kurt's hip and placed it on his chin in thought. Moving his left hand from Kurt's hand to his shoulder, Blaine went over the answer in his head.

…He really didn't have one.

"I am actually not quite sure…" he said, honestly. "You did not seem like you much deserved to be attacked by them, let alone killed. Besides, it was just a small apple, not much harm done after all." Smiling a lopsided smile, Prince Anderson patted Kurt on the shoulder before digging into his pockets. Pulling out five gold pieces, he pulled one of Kurt's hands away from his aching ribs and slipped the pieces into it.

"Here, and now stealing will not even be necessary," he joked. Kurt smiled shyly before looking at what Blaine had put in his hands and gasping, wincing at the pain it caused. When it subsided after only a few moments, he bit his lip and shook his head.

"P-Prince Anderson-"

"I told you last time, Blaine. Anderson reminds me too much of my father, even if he's no longer

a prince," he joked.

"Okay then…" Kurt raised an eyebrow before slightly shaking his head and starting over. "Uh, Prince An-… Prince _Blaine_, you d-don't have to do this… I-I mean… I'm grateful and everything but…" shrugging slightly, he continued, "I can't accept this."

Kurt lowered his head and held out his hand, shoving the money back into Blaine's hands and patting it softly. Blaine shook his head and held the money out again.

"No really, I honestly do not need it. And it seems to me that you need it more than I do-… ooh, I apologize, I never caught your name."

"Ohh, it's uhh… it's Kurt," he mumbled softly. Blaine smiled before repeating the name.

"Kurt… that is a very nice name," the Prince smiled. "Well then Kurt, I insist that you take it. Please."

Sighing, Kurt nodded and held his hand out. Blaine dropped the coins back into his hand with his usual smile, rolling Kurt's fingers up into a fist to hold them tightly.

"Thank you, Prince Blaine…"

"No problem, Kurt."

Long white fabric flowed on the forest ground as Kurt's steady hands attempted to brush out the wrinkles. The gentle, sky-blue sash was tied tightly below his chest, and he had shoved a few pieces of cloth down his shirt to make the illusion of said chest. He really didn't understand why woman always wanted large chests… they felt _very_ uncomfortable to him.

Blue plant-like designs were hemmed into the base of the dress, weaving themselves upwards and stopping at different heights, the highest no farther than his waist. Above the sash was also hemmed, only with a more flower-like design that spread onto the short, somewhat-see-through sleeves.

He had a few silver bangles on his wrist, and a simple silver chain around his neck. The chain was the only thing he didn't have to steal – it had been his mothers, before she passed. The chain had a small, diamond-shaped crystal that seemed to glisten in the light, even in the shadows of the forest.

Unfortunately for him, Kurt had managed to drop the shoes from his bag when he had been running from the guards. So, he'd have to go it barefoot – which _really_ put a damper on Kurt's already somewhat-awful mood.

Gliding his hands along his stomach, Kurt made sure that the bandage around his ribs was tight and secure. He knew from experience that if he didn't wrap it tight and secure, the pain would only increase day by day. And if he was hunched over in pain from his ribs, he'd just draw more attention to himself. And thus, risk possible exposure and banishment.

Having now smoothed out all the wrinkles he could actually _get_ out, adjusted the bandages to stay tightly wrapped up for the night, and fixed the annoying fabric on his chest (that was _really_ going to be annoying), he pulled out the chestnut-colored wig from his bag. Smiling, he brushed his fingers threw it, pulling out a few non-existent knots. Careful not to mess it up, he carefully pulled it onto his head.

Feeling the cool hair against his neck felt odd. He'd never grown his hair out long, in fact, even if he wanted to, his hair didn't seem to _want_ to grow out. Not that he was complaining – he _liked_ his hair short, easier to manage, not to mention he couldn't even _imagine_ himself with long hair. But tonight would have to be an exception, seeing as almost no girls wore their hair short in Durbendy, and _absolutely_ no girls had a guy-cut like his.

Biting his lip, he stepped out of the forest, holding up the bottom of his dress in order to keep the white from staining – he was kind of hoping to slip it back into the store after the ball. Why should he keep it if he'd never wear it again, and it wasn't even rightfully his. Adjusting his wig to make sure it was on straight and the hair was all brushed back and behind his shoulders, he let out a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding in.

He swiftly made his way to the entrance to the village, hoping no one would see him enter. When he'd made it in, he swiftly dropped the bottom of the dress and brushed his hands along it. Hey, he might be a guy, but he sure did appreciate fine fashion and didn't want to _wrinkle_ it.

He walked along the road, spotting many other women walking in the same direction – some with dates of their own, and some walking together in large groups, giggling and whispering to one another. Kurt couldn't help but giggle slightly, coughing when he realized that even _with_ his high voice, he didn't sound very… woman-like. Clearing his voice, he did his best to make his voice a bit higher before laughing again.

That was… better, he guessed. He'd just have to do his best to refrain from laughing for the night. The thought just made him laugh again.  
>Well shoot, this would be hard.<p>

Before he knew it, he'd arrived at the castle. He could already see the lights shining inside, and the sounds of ballroom music playing. He couldn't help but smile – galas had always seemed to appeal to one. And now was his chance to go to one.

And even dance with a guy.

He smiled brightly at the thought, and forgetting about all the unfortunate things that seemed to have happened to him in the past, he happily made his way inside, hoping that this would be one _hell_ of a night.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** So, ya, no dance. *hides* Please be nicer than redrosegal and don't try and kill me D: I have no way of getting out of it next chapter, unless it spontaneously combusts! But ya, I feel that this (greatly paraphrased) conversation between us will entertain you -

"Are you _sure_ Blaine doesn't know he's gay?"

"Positive. He's just stupid."

"But I mean... just look at him!"

"HE'S IN DENIAL, WOMAN! AND HE'S BEING STUPID!"

So, ya, he doesn't know he's gay. Even though it's obvious.

DRESS! YOU WANT TO SEE THE DRESS! Right. Almost forgot.

http : / / i56 . tinypic . com / 28ls46c . png

remove the spaces.

BloodyAphrodite - Ooh, no, no, he has. He's just stupid. And in denial. And stupid. And naive. And stupid. And ya, I noticed that too xD Only, he had no shoes. So it doesn't look like he'll be leaving his glass slipper...

ilovehappiness - No problem xD And maaaaybe

GleeFangurl721 - Why thank you! And yes!

Alice Itoko - Aww, thank you, and sorry for the wait ^^'

Spark Of Insanity - I just started reading D.N. Angel a little while ago xD Good so far, I'm on the second I think. I think I lost the book though o3o... And hot dancing... *drools* Unfortunatly, I don't think the kind of music that would allow that would be played at a gala xD But trust me, I wish xD

Klaine . is . bigger . than . Glee - . And who knows, I might end up changing the rating eventually *eyebrow-waggle*

I WILL update in two days. I WILL... do my best o3o *hides*

Sorry for the wait ^^'

~Joshua


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